The List
by LostInLost18
Summary: Suliet One-Shot. "She's gone - and he feels her absence every single day." Set post- the End. Sawyer's home but he realises it's not the same without Juliet and tries to write a list to deal with her loss...with surprising results.


_The List_

He walks in and immediately realises three things about his environment.

One, it's not home. It'll never be home. Home is where you walk in and immediately find yourself comfortable, no matter how long you've been away. Home is where everything familiar to you, everything you love, waits for you. Home is a place where the past doesn't matter, where the present is captured, where the future is made.

This isn't home.

Two, it's missing something. He can put a finger on what might be missing, because it's the same thing that's been missing in his life for what feels like a long time. He would've thought she would've stuck by him even after death - it'd been a sort of pact they'd made to always have each other's backs - but her scent has long since faded from his clothes and the trace of her lips has long since washed away.

She's gone - and he feels her absence every single day.

Three, he hates it here. From the stains on the wall - which look suspiciously like bloodstains - to the lime coloured couch - which just looks the contents of a tissue after he's blown his nose on it - to the musty smell hanging around in the air, it's just a complete hovel of a house. It's disgusting, it's revolting, it's the furthest thing from a home that you could find.

It's why he chose it.

He doesn't want to live in some cushy house paid for by the sycophantic staff at Oceanic 815. He doesn't want to bathe in luxuries and be surrounded by expensive items he long ago would've killed to have. He doesn't want to be surrounded by the warm and the warming - he prefers the cold anyway. He doesn't want a single item of luxury, nor does he want a single item which could give him even an ounce of pleasure.

He wants to suffer, suffer in the dark.

The way she did.

Oh God, he misses her. He misses her so much.

He thought Kate was trouble, and hated her for a time for causing his head to spin and his heart to ache. Then came Juliet, who rocked his world and forced him to re-examine himself and everything in his world he thought he was sure of. He gave her what was left of his heart - she took it and made it whole again. He gave her his love - she simply smiled and gave hers back. He gave her everything - she gave him herself, and that'd always been enough.

He scowls at the empty room and starts to feel anger taking over him.

He thinks he actually hates her. He gets so angry every time her face appears inside his head and all he can think about is just hurting her, the way she hurt him, but when push comes to shove he can't do it.

Instead, he grabs a pen and paper and slams them onto a table and decides he's going to write everything he hates about her, just to get it out of his system. He poises the pen meticulously against the paper and thinks for a moment. He remembers how she tasered him, and that little gleam of maliciousness in her eyes. He remembers watching her put a gun to Kate's head, a tiny smirk poised on her lips. He remembers their first argument, and the full force she put behind the slap. He remembers hearing her words which, although delivered in a calm way, caused his heart to snap in two.

"_If I never meet you, then I never have to lose you."_

He could write down anyone of these moments. He could write down that he hates the way she thinks she's always right - except, he doesn't. He actually finds that a turn on. He could write down that he hates the way she dominates him and thinks she's so tough - except, he actually finds that pretty hot and he finds it's a lot easier to tolerate that part of her than to start an argument he'll inevitably lose. He could write down that he hates how she gave up on them so quickly - but he can't, because she was just trying to get them all home.

He examines the blank list, simply titled 'What I Hate About You'. He can't even remember why he decided to compose it but he can't bring himself to scrunch the paper up. Then he remembers the thing he was going to write down and immediately puts pen to paper again. It's the only thing he can think to write down and it's honest - she would've liked that, he thinks.

When he looks back up, he holds the paper up and reads it to himself.

_What I Hate About You_

_I hate that you're gone._

Then, as a side note, as if she's actually reading this from wherever the hell she is, he's added:

_Please come back, baby. _

As he puts the paper back on the table - pushing the pen away in the process, in case he ends up making an essay out of that last sentence (he's got so much left to say) - he realises a fourth thing.

He realises just what a mess he is without her.

**A/n: This little story wouldn't leave me alone so here it is. Just a small Suliet one-shot and now I can relax and concentrate on the stories I should be finishing ha ha :P Dedicated to Jimelda for reviewing most, if not all, of my stories. Thanks hun! **


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